Saturday, February 18, 2012

Sweets for the Sweet

It's so good to be right...

For decades, I've said over and over again, "I don't trust people who don't like sweets." I never found them to be very nice. And while "nice" and "trust" are two different things... mean people cannot be trusted. Right? Can I get an amen?

Anyway, several recent studies have proven that people who like sweets are more agreeable, nicer, and friendlier than those who shun them.

Singles, if you're out on a date and your potential beloved says "I don't like dessert," run out of the restaurant. You won't be sorry.

Friday Night Notes

Yes, I know this is Saturday, but these are my notes about last night. What happened last night? I went to a Meetup titled "Journal While Exploring Your Journey."

I love the woman who hosted. She is fast becoming more of a friend and less of an acquaintance as time goes on. She's bubbly, energetic, and very friendly.

She thought the New Year would be a good time to start journaling, and wondered if there were any others that might want to as well, hence the meetup. While quite a few signed up for it, only four of us (and the hostess) were actually there.

The hostess had taped an interview Oprah did with Elizabeth Gilbert, author of Eat, Pray, Love. I have to admit - I didn't read the book. I did see the movie, and those of you who read a much earlier review of it that I wrote KNOW I hated it. The movie seemed so self important to me. Still, I had to admit that this was one woman who made journaling work for her.

So, after a bit of mingling, we sat down to watch the taped interview. However, before the hostess could hit "play," Miss Know It All decided to talk all about her experience with Eat, Pray, Love.

"I'm a writer" she started out by saying. I did everything I could to prevent myself from rolling my eyes. "I have had several email conversations with Elizabeth Gilbert." Well, good for you. Can I have your autograph, please? "The movie glossed over her transformation. She was depressed, had issues, was seeing a therapist, and had been on all kinds of meds."

Well. I'd like to say something sarcastic here - I really would. However, this was good information to know - even if it did come spilling out of Miss Know It All's mouth.

And it just went on and on. Every time the hostess went to hit "play," Miss Know It All just had to throw some more of her inside scoop in. Finally, she took a breather, and the hostess was able to hit the play button before Miss Know It All could vomit out more tedia. (Tedious trivia - my own word, which will soon be copyrighted, bitches.)

The interview was interesting. Yes, I still think Elizabeth Gilbert is a tad bit of a blowhard. That might be jealousy speaking, and I'll freely admit it. I mean, wouldn't I just love to be on some publisher's dime to find myself? Of course I would. Yet, I also admit that she had some interesting tidbits to share about journaling, asking yourself the hard questions, and finding the courage to change your course in life.

However, during every single frickin' commercial break, Miss Know It All had to pipe in and add commentary. It was getting to be VERY, VERY irritating.

At least to me.

After the interview, we talked about the interview, how it relates to journaling, and we also talked about meditation. Of course, when I say "we" I really mean Miss Know It All and the broad her brought her.

At some point, the woman next to me said, "Is this boring you - you haven't said really said much since the interview started." Um, maybe because every time I started to talk, Miss Know It All cut me off? And she did - every single frickin' time I started a sentence, she talked over me. However, as it would not have been polite to say so, I took a bite of my cookie (again telling: Miss Know It All wouldn't touch the cookies) and said, "I'm really just listening - I learned a lot."

I have to admit, I did get some great ideas and will start journaling again. I even bought something I can use as a journal at Target - and it was even on clearance ($2! - it was probably made in China, but if you won't tell, neither will I).

Am I glad I went? Yes. But I hope to God I never run into Miss Know It All again. If I do, I'll stick a cookie in her mouth so she can't talk.

Thursday, February 02, 2012

Glitter on the Highway

I've been thinking about my mom a lot these last couple of weeks. I suppose I think about her every day - but this is different. There have been lots of memory triggers around lately. For example, I will be at the store, and all of a sudden I see something and think, "Gosh, mom loved that!" Or I'll come across something at the house and remember that I bought it while out shopping with my mom. I've even seen duplicates of items she used to have as I scour the thrift stores.

As the veil between worlds is not currently thin, I don't "feel" her. The memories are definitely just memories - not the overwhelming sensory perceptions they are when the veil is thin. Still, I find it odd that she's popping up so much lately.

Normally on my way into work, I listen to talk radio. This morning, though, I channel hopped until I found a song I liked. And right after that song came another. Then, as I neared work, "Love Shack" came on.

I love that song - and started singing out loud. When I sang "I got me a car, it's as big as a whale and it's about to set sail," I remembered my mom.

Now, I don't think my mom knew who the B-52's were, nor do I believe she ever heard the song itself. However, she drove a huge 1968 Mercury Parklane and whenever I heard the song, I always thought of that car.

One day we were going to go somewhere, and my mom said, "Let's take the Merc" (we normally rode in my dad's truck). All of a sudden, I sang - outloud - "I got me a car, it's as big as a whale, and it's about to set sail! I got me a car, it seats about twenty, so come on and take your jukebox money!" My mom started to laugh.

After that, it became kind of a thing. On the rare occasions we would take the Merc somewhere, I'd start singing that part of the song, and my mom would always laugh.

She loved that car, and wouldn't let my dad get rid of it, even though she stopped driving a few years before she died. While I never knew exactly why she got such a kick out of those few lines from "Love Shack," I think she felt some sort of pride about her car when she heard me chop up the lyrics. It deepened the pride she had in her car - that much I could see in her eyes.

My dad still has the car. I know he contemplates selling it, but he has trouble letting go. He told me that mom would be so disappointed in him if he sold it.

For me, the car holds a lot of memories. We took many a vacation in that car, and I learned to drive in it as well. It was the car Bobby took his last ride in before he was put down at the vet's. It was also the car I hopped into when my mom saw me crying at a bus stop after I found out I couldn't become a Marine.

That car picked me up from the airport every time I came home on leave. And it drove me back to the airport so I could go on to my next adventure. We slept in the car when we went to cat shows "down South." We argued in the car. We laughed in the car.

More importantly, I believe it was my mom's first car. She didn't learn how to drive until I was young - in fact, I remember when she took her driving lessons. I think she may have learned how to drive in that car - but that part, I don't remember. I do remember that for most of my years at home, that was that car that took me places.

Now it sits in the garage. I think it probably misses my mom as much as I do.